Some years ago I moved to Madrid to live. Some years inundated with conflicting feelings. Feeling like I was from here, but also from there. Almost always feeling like I was from nowhere. Years in which travelling became a lifestyle. A period in which I have formed memories made up of portraits of complex individuals and lost gazes. Strangers that I have shared dead time with waiting and travelling between cities, “the moments in which one ceases to be”, as my dear friend Miguel Ángel Hernández.
At some point during the conversations I had with my travelling companions they shared their experiences with me and talked to me about their feelings and worries. I then understood that the things that sometimes seem unique, individual and personal to us perhaps are not. That we have more experiences and fears in common with others than we imagine. That we live in a permanent area of uncertainty. After becoming aware of this situation, this piece of work has become a small dedication to “those that travel” and, above all, “to those that feel”.
